A Lifetime of Pain
by Shadowheart28
Summary: Nico has barely escaped from Tartarus with his life but the land of the living presents a whole different kind of pain. Namely in the form of one son of Poseidon. One sided Nico/Percy.
1. A Lifetime of Pain

**_Disclaimer - I do not know the storyline or any of the characters._**

**_Set during House of Hades. WARNING - CONTAINS SPOILERS. _**

* * *

**_Right from the start,_**

**_You were a thief, you stole my heart._**

**_And I, your willing victim. _**

* * *

Nico slammed his fist against the wall of his cabin and a wave of freezing cold radiated out from the point of impact. He _knew_ he shouldn't have agreed to stay with these people on this stupid quest. He _knew_ it.

It had been hard enough to watch, helpless, as Percy – bloody Percy – had fallen into Tartarus but now that he was back, it was even more painful to sit by and do nothing as he talked, laughed, held hands with Annabeth. _Annabeth._

Nico gritted his teeth. Even when faced with the Lord of Time, he had never known himself to feel so much hatred for one person. Hadn't the gods punished him enough? He had stared into the heart of the Abyss and lived_. But for what?_ He laughed – a short, hard sound – without humour.

Now he was in Greece with a group of people who feared him. Jason had told him that they would accept him for being…being…

He swore aloud. He couldn't even admit it to himself.

_Hazel would understand. _A small voice whispered, echoing through his mind.

'No!' And his voice cracked. These days, he hardly ate, hardly slept – lest the nightmares threatened to catch hold of him, to not let go. Hazel was from the forties too, except that she had had even less time to adjust to the modern world. She would hate him, be revolted. He couldn't bear to lose another sibling – lose another sibling because of Percy Jackson.

At the thought of the son of Poseidon, Nico's heart clenched and a single tear tracked down his cheek, cutting through the grime that had caked itself on his face during the battle for the Doors of Death in Hades' Temple.

Thinking back to his showdown with Cupid in the palace of Diocletian, Nico cursed the winged god - hating how he had made him feel. He had been so scared, so ashamed to admit what he felt and that terrified him even more. He was a son of Hades – he was supposed to _cause_ fear.

'Damn you, Jackson.' And that was too much. Sobs wracked his thin frame as he sank to the floor, as the memories threatened to pull him under.

* * *

**_With every breath the pain gets worse,_**

**_I didn't know that I could hurt this much._**

**_What's broken once cannot be fixed,_**

**_I love you, I hate you, my feelings are mixed._**

* * *

A snow-bound cliff top, there had been three demi-gods but only one who had caught his eye. Percy Jackson – fearless, strong, the most amazing person he had ever seen in seventy years.

Next, a choking sadness as the same boy had told him about his sister's fate. That memory left him gasping, a pain as sharp as cut glass.

Then a sweltering day in Texas, a ranch of monsters and again – Percy Jackson. No matter how he tried, his past followed him, as heavy as Atlas's burden of the sky.

Darkness, pain, a river of fire. His memories of the son of Poseidon had been the only thing that had kept him going in the darkest place in hell. Had kept him fighting, kept him alive. Not even Hazel knew how many times he had come close to throwing himself on his own sword or just giving up in the middle of battle – if only to end the pain.

* * *

**_Old wounds reopened,_**

**_Scars that will never heal._**

**_Right now only the pain is real._**

**_How come it's still working?_**

**_After all it has been through._**

* * *

A knock at the door broke through the haze of misery. Every muscle in his body shrieked in protest as he rose, scrubbing at his eyes. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door and he hated himself for wishing that it was Percy standing there, holding his arms out… Nico muttered a string of obscenities under his breath in mixed Italian and Greek.

The door swung open to reveal Jason standing in the hallway. The son of Zeus wore an expression of concern and pity as he took in Nico's dishevelled appearance and bloodshot eyes.

'Hey, man, I thought you might want to…' he started but Nico pushed past him. Despite his being at least a foot shorter than the golden-haired boy, Jason flinched as he made to shove him away. _He's afraid of me. _Nico thought with vicious satisfaction, then immediately felt guilty. Jason had accepted him for who he was.

'Well you thought wrong.' A lifetime of bitterness filled his voice. He headed towards the top deck. He needed fresh air, needed to clear his head.

Leaving a confused and hurt Jason standing at the door to his cabin, Nico strode down the hall and as he walked, the shadows in the dimly lit passage seemed to cling to his body, creating a cloak of shadows for the son of Hades.

Even the soft ambiance of twilight stung his eyes as he reached the top deck. Leo was nowhere to be seen, probably tinkering with his Archimedes sphere in the control room or something. Piper and Frank chatted quietly by the main mast.

Nico spun around as he heard his sister's voice and started towards the sound before realising who she was with. Percy loped beside Hazel, his hand in Annabeth's, their fingers tangled. He felt like he had been cursed by the _arai again_ – crippling pain that made it feel like his chest was tearing in two, a final gift from one of the hundreds of monsters that he had killed during the battle of New York.

The son of Poseidon laughed at something his girlfriend had said, his head tipped back, sea green eyes flashing in the low light. Gods, those eyes. Nico swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump that had lodged itself in his throat. Annabeth said something else, glancing at Hazel and then back to Percy. She bumped her hip against his.

Why _Annabeth?_ He thought bitterly. Jealous, know-it-all, bossy _Annabeth?_

'Hey, Nico.' Crap, they had seen him. The trio reached him and he could feel the weight of their gazes on him. Annabeth spoke again, reached out to brush her finders against his arm. 'Are you sure you'll be able to shadow-travel with the statue? I mean-'

_'Yes._' Nico hissed, and it was if all of Akhlys's poison had been distilled into his voice. 'And _don't _touch me again.' With that, he spun away – Hazel forgotten.

He climbed up to the prow of the ship and gazed out onto the horizon. The last light of day turning it into a beautiful vista of pink and gold. A least up here no one could see the pain etched into his face, making him look far older than his fourteen years. No one could see the tears that burned his eyes, threatening to spill.

Furiously, he wiped them away with the back of his hand and ignored the voices calling up to him from the deck.

Once this quest was over – presuming he wasn't dead – he would disappear, forever. Perhaps he would live down in the Underworld with his father. Gods knew they had lifetime's worth of pain in common.

* * *

**_Shattered into pieces, by memories of you._**

**_I don't think I can keep going,_**

**_Hiding for so long, _**

**_I do not think that my heart is that strong._**

* * *

Nico watched as the sun set – turning the River Acheron the same emerald of the surrounding hills; the same colour as the eyes of the boy he loved.

* * *

**_I'm standing in the dark, _**

**_She's dancing on the table._**

**_I'm looking through the glass,_**

_**You're someone else's angel.** _


	2. Heartbroken Insanity

**Hey, I hope you guys like it. I'm sorry this isn't very good though, I wrote it on a two hour bus journey! Poor Nico. **

**Please review!**

* * *

**When there is desire, there is gonna be a flame.**

**When there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned.**

* * *

As soon as Favonius mentioned Cupid, all the blood drained out of Nico Di Angelo's face.

_Nnonononono. _This wasn't supposed to happen, he was just supposed to talk to a few ghosts, claim the sceptre and leave the Palace.

Even after having met several gods and having been through _Tartarus_ for Hades sake, Cupid was probably the god that he feared the most. The deity of love and son of Aphrodite, Cupid probably already knew his secret. But that didn't mean that he wanted to confess in front of Jason – son of Jupiter, ultimate golden boy.

His heart was beating double-time, stuttering and thumping with an emotion that had been all too familiar to him for the past couple of years – fear. A feeling that hadn't left him since the first time he had run away from Camp Half Blood – an inherent terror that someone would find out his darkest secret and he would become even more isolated, cast out by even his own sister.

Nico was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that when the West Wind picked up him and Jason he was taken completely by surprise. Being carried as the wind was most disconcerting and he vowed never to repeat the experience.

* * *

**No one sees when he is lying,**

**Heart still beating, but slowly dying.**

**As he walks the ragged edge, alone,**

**He tries to set his heart in stone.**

* * *

Wait, Jason was speaking to Favonius.

'…Until they meet him.' A wave of freezing cold washed through the ruins of Salona, rushing around his ankles and making his bones ache. A whisper seemed to echo through the air and he thought that he could hear the faint beat of wings – even though the West Wind hadn't so much as twitched. In fact, the god was unusually still.

That's when he _knew_.

Choking fear rose up, tightening his throat and making the world spin. It was if he was breathing in broken glass instead of air. A step back and he felt a pillar against his spine.

Nowhere to run.

His legs trembled and it was all he could do to hold himself upright. The grass around his feet wilted and died, death leaching out from him, cursing the very ground he stood on.

_You're a child of Hades_, a small, cruel voice in his mind whispered. _Everything you touch will_ die.

'Hey man…' The sound of Jason's voice snapped him back to reality – silencing the voice in his head, but he knew it was still there.

'I'm fine.' And his voice cracked. Even down in Tartarus, facing the heart of the Abyss, he had never felt such crushing, overwhelming terror.

**_You came to claim the sceptre. _**

The voice was deep, melodious and at once utterly beguiling and more dangerous than he could ever have imagined. Jason called out, glancing around wildly for the source of the voice. It seemed that the son of Jupiter didn't like facing enemies that couldn't be seen.

Nico almost laughed at that. What would he do if he could see inside his mind? Having to deal with the enemies that he had to fight just to stay standing for the weight of them?

Go insane probably. Gods knew he almost had. Even now, when faced with the one secret that could bring him to his knees – Nico could feel the thread of his sanity begin to unwind.

* * *

**But for all he learns to fight and shield,**

**A single blow to the heart and he must yield.**

**A silver thread, starts to unwind,**

**He wonders if he's lost his mind.**

* * *

A sudden, invisible blow smacked Jason across the courtyard, sending the older boy tumbling down a set of stairs. His head hit the concrete with a sickening thud. As he raced across the street to help him up, the voice rushed around his ears, mocking him.

**_Oh, you expect me to play fair?_** Cupid laughed**_. I am the god of Love. I am_** never **_fair._**

And didn't he know it. If Love was fair, it might have been kinder. Not so eager to make him fall for someone so far out of his league.

The god was toying with them now, firing arrows at the pair. The first Jason deflected, the second Nico managed to dodge, but the third found its mark, sinking into his sword arm – sending a bolt of pain lacing up to his shoulder.

Then the arrow dissolved, leaving no wound but a heavy, sinking feeling that burrowed into his bones and stayed there, leaching the fight out of him.

Jason was growing weaker too, and after being thrown into several pillars, Nico was surprised that he was still upright. But it was when Cupid finally threw the son of Jupiter into a wall that something inside him cracked – splinters spider webbing out from the point of impact.

'Leave him alone!' His voice was hoarse and raw. 'It's me you want!' And even though he couldn't see the god, Nico could feel his eyes boring into him, searching the darkest reaches of his soul, seeing all of the hatred, the shame, the fear…

**_Poor Nico Di Angelo. My beloved Psyche risked everything in the name of Love. But you – what have you done in my name?_**

'I've been to Tartarus and back. You don't scare me.' He snarled, and every word cost him, another lie on his consciousness, another layer added to his armour.

**_Oh, I think I scare you very, very much. Face me. Be honest. _**

'Give us the sceptre.' Nico could feel the dead beneath his feet – centuries worth of skeletons awaiting his command, ready to protect him. His hands trembled and nightmare visions burned behind his eyelids; hordes of monsters, an overwhelming pain, death, so much death. Death, death, death**_. _**That's all that there would ever be for a child of Hades. No love, no acceptance.

Cupid struck, throwing him sideways into a pillar. Rage boiled in his throat, a fire fuelled by shame and self-loathing. Hatred for what he felt, what he _was_.

* * *

**There's a thin line between steady and insane,**

**Nothing to lose, nothing to gain.**

**He dances solo on the knife's sharp edge;**

**The storm-tossed cliff-line,**

**The tempest's ledge.**

* * *

'What does this guy _want_ from you?' Jason's voice was weak and he could see the confusion in his eyes.

_He would hate me, mock me. They would abandon him. Oh gods, _Percy_…_

**_Tell him,_** Cupid was laughing now, enjoying his pain. **_Tell him how you are a coward, afraid to face your feelings. Tell him why you ran away from Camp Half Blood. Why you're always alone._**

A raw, primal scream clawed its way up his throat, full of rage and pain. The dead erupted from the ground, driven into a frenzy by his anger.

**_Will you hide among the dead as you always do?_**

A wave of darkness and icy cold radiated from his thin frame, shaking him to the core. Nico watched with a sort of detached interest as memories flickered through his mind.

A black river rushing past, the Styx, a beach of crushed glass, unchecked terror that the son of Poseidon might not surface.

Stumbling through Persephone's garden with its quicksilver trees and glowing gems like so many faceted fruits – Bianca, gone forever, she'd left him alone. _Alone_.

A rush of pride as he saved the day, striding into battle with an army of the dead.

A rush of anger and passion as he watched two figures clinging to each other in a darkened courtyard.

Blue birthday cake…

Nico fell to his knees, gasping. He couldn't, couldn't give up his darkest secret. Too much pain, too much shame. His skeleton soldiers had the god pinned now, fuelled by their master's misery.

**_Interesting! Do you have the strength after all?_**

'I left because of love.' Not a lie, even better. 'Annabeth…she…'

**_You're still hiding. You do not have the strength. _**

'Nico,' Jason's voice was barely more than a whisper. 'I get it. It's okay.' He bowed his head, grief and misery etched into every line on his face.

'You don't understand.' His voice was filled with bitterness. 'No one understands.'

**_Will you run away from your friends? From yourself?_**

'I don't have any friends! I'll never fit in! I'll always be alone!' He was desperate now. Jason had guessed. Every breath was ragged, tearing his lungs and leaving him trembling.

Then he realised, in the old myths, why Psyche had been so afraid, so desperate to know if her lover was a monster. Because love _was_ a monster, a being more terrible than anything than Hades could ever dream of. And monsters, he had faced.

'I…wasn't in love with Annabeth.' Nico's voice was a thread of utter pain, a whisper of grief.

'You were jealous of her. It makes sense why you didn't want to be around her and especially why you didn't want to be around…him.'

_Broken._

Shattered into pieces, his soul was torn. Too long he had hidden his deepest fear, building up walls of resentment and shame. And now, among the ruins of this ancient city, finally admitting it gave him no relief, no feeling of closure.

Cupid's voice had gone silent and looking up, he finally stared into the face of Love. Silky hair the colour of jet hung loose around a face that was too beautiful, too harsh to belong to any mortal being. A bow was slung over his shoulder and a pair of snowy white wings arched high over his head, creating a canopy that cast him in shadow from the Croatian sun. The god's eyes were blood red, full of promises, curses and heartbreak. The winds rushed around him, whispering in languages too old to name. They told stories of lovers and pain and fear – everything that Cupid stood for.

'I had a crush on Percy Jackson.' Venom filled his voice, burning his tongue. 'That's the truth. That's the big secret.'

_Are you happy now?_

**_Oh, I wouldn't say that Love always makes you happy. _**His voice was smaller now, more human. **_Sometimes it makes you incredibly sad. But at least you've faced it now. That's the only way to conquer me. _**

With that, the god of Love disappeared into the winds, leaving behind a feeling on infinite _nothingness. _A cavity that he knew that he could never fill.

Where the god had stood, a sceptre sat; a polished ball of obsidian on the backs of three golden eagles. Bending down to pick it up, every one of Nico's bones screamed in protest. With a glare, he met Jason's eyes, challenging him to say anything.

'No one finds out.' And his tone was final – laced with ice and steel.

The weight of silence had been lifted but had been replaced with a mantel of fear. Now that someone knew, his secret was no longer just his to bear and if Jason told the others, he did not think that he could bear it.

His hands were shaking as he took Jason's and when the shadows washed over him, so did a faint sense of relief.

* * *

**It's hard to fight your demons **

**When you're fighting bound and blind.**

**It's hard to see the sunlight**

**When you're slowly losing your mind.**

* * *

If no one could see him, they couldn't see the pain behind his eyes either.

* * *

**He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar,**

**The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart.**


	3. Nightmares

**_Here we go, welcome to my funeral,_**

**_Without you, I don't even have a pulse._**

**_All alone it's dark and cold,_**

**_With every move I die. _**

* * *

_Terror._

Nico clutched at his arm, shivering on the cold metal floor of some kind of container.

_Broken._

Nightmare visions flashed through his mind every time he closed his eyes. Blood seeped through his fingers, coating his aviator jacket and dripping onto his jeans.

No respite, no hope of saviour – his sword was gone, no ambrosia or pomegranate seeds.

Suddenly, blinding light filled his prison and two figures hovered above him. Nico whimpered as he made out the features – Percy, his expression distorted, ugly. He was laughing at him. _Freak._

The other was Annabeth – a cruel smirk on her face. She wound her body around Percy's, kissed him.

_Loner. Outcast. Unnatural. _

He screamed at them, raw and primal, to stop torturing him. To let him die in peace. But he agreed with every word that they hissed.

A tingle tear tracked down his face and the fight drained from his body – leaving him shivering and shattered.

_Alone._

* * *

**_His eyes burn like fire,_**

**_His heart's made of ice._**

**_His every action a gamble,_**

**_A roll of the dice._**

* * *

Nico woke with a start.

His hand wrapped around the hilt of his black sword even as he blinked the nightmares from his eyes. Then he remembered, _no monsters here, just the pain_. The heart stopping, mind numbing, gut-wrenching _pain._

Scenes from the day before raced through his mind, taunting him.

A ragged band of fighters stumbling from the ruins of the House of Hades – triumphant.

The son of Poseidon – as beautiful as heartbreak in the evening light as he had laughed with Annabeth at the prow of the Argo II.

His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword once more but he knew it would do no good. His whole body trembled and he knew that his battle was not one that he could fight, the war was waged entirely in his mind.

And he wasn't sure of he was winning or losing.

* * *

**_Inside his soul is shattering, breaking,_**

**_Endless pain behind the smile he is faking._**

* * *

Several hours had passed since they had left Croatia and the sky outside was dotted with silvery pinpricks of light. The lamp in his room swung gently from the ceiling.

Nico had long since given up any hope of sleep - whenever he achieved anything that could be called rest, nightmares filled his head, jerking him awake. He had lost count of the number of times that he bolted awake, shivering and sweating.

His mind was in tatters, the cloth of his sanity ripped and ragged.

Shaking, Nico swung his legs out of bed, wincing as jolts of pain shot through him as his feet touched the floor. His body was still suffering from the poisonous landscape of Tartarus. The place was a trap – designed to wound and kill.

As he padded across the room, Nico caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror that hung on one wall. His face was gaunt and pale but it was his eyes that scared him the most.

Dark and haunted, deep shadows ringed them and any trace of hope had been ripped away.

_When there is no room in Hell, the dead will walk the Earth. _

That quote seemed entirely appropriate and highly ironic. Hundreds of thousands of monsters, back from the dead, roaming the Earth.

And there was the other meaning, he supposed, that a son of Hades would look like the dead he commanded – fresh from a living nightmare and bleeding from a million soul wounds.

A thousand silvery scars covered his bare arms and legs - ambrosia and nectar could only do so much. He was surprised that he hadn't died from blood loss before the crew of the Argo II had come to rescue him.

Nico was dressed in a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt that would have engulfed his thin figure even before Tartarus had stolen even more of his weight.

* * *

**_His strength is gone,_**

**_His willpower weakening, _**

**_His grief apparent in every word he is speaking._**

* * *

He gave his reflection a humourless, lopsided smile. Scruffy, silky hair flopped over one eye – overgrown. Small pieces stuck up at random angles and generally did what they pleased. High cheekbones accentuated by his gaunt frame stood out sharply beneath liquid eyes framed by thick lashes.

* * *

**_Behind his mask you can see the starkness,_**

**_His once-bright soul giving in to the Darkness._**

* * *

The son of Hades was beautiful – yet he did not see it. Blinded by self-revulsion and shame, Nico Di Angelo could only see the worst in himself. A lifetime of pain had sapped his spirit and drained his soul. Leaving a small, ragged thing in its place – hiding from the light and putting up walls. A smokescreen, no, a fortress to guard against heartbreak – again. But that did not matter. Love had a very good aim and an eye for pinpointing weakness to ensure a clean kill. Love was _cruel._

Nico sighed, his head dropping onto his chest. Rubbing his arms to try to get some warmth into them, he headed back to his bed, back to the nightmares.

Sleep didn't come, but the horrors did. And it was all he could do to hide in the darkness as terrifying, paralyzing visions preyed on his mind.

* * *

**_They say true love hurts,_**

**_Well, this could almost kill me._**

**_Young love murdered, _**

**_That is what this must be._**

**_I would give it all to not be sleeping alone. _**


	4. Forgotten

**_And this is me praying that,_**

**_This was the very first page,_**

**_Not where the storyline ends._**

**_My thoughts will echo your name,_**

**_Until I see you again._**

* * *

Nico turned around at the sound of his sister's voice, expecting her to be with Frank. His heart almost stopped as he took in emerald green eyes, tousled dark hair and a troublemaker's smile.

For a moment, his brain froze. The image of the son of Poseidon etched permanently onto his retinas.

Camp Jupiter was supposed to be his sanctuary, the place where no-one knew him, where they kept their distance – just the way he liked it. Well, the latter was a lie that no one needed to know.

All of this flashed through Nico Di Angelo's mind before he regained his posture and held out his hand to Percy. No recognition found its way into the green-eyed boy's expression. No flash of memory – and his heart twisted painfully.

_He doesn't even remember you_, a small, cruel voice hissed in his mind.

Nico almost jerked his hand back as his skin came into contact with Percy's. It felt as if shocks of electricity were lancing up his arm. Nico's eyes snapped up involuntarily and he found his gaze met by a pair of sea-green eyes the colour of the ocean after a storm.

_Stupid,_ he berated himself, _did he really believe that his feelings for him would have changed the second time around? _

* * *

**_I know a boy with a mask of ice,_**

**_Cracked and splintered by the battles of life._**

* * *

He swallowed before speaking and felt a small measure of pride in himself that his voice didn't crack.

'Pleased to meet you.' His voice was rough, hollow. 'I'm Nico Di Angelo.'

The older boy frowned, and Nico found himself staring at the crease that formed between his eyebrows. The evening sun loved his jawline – turning his skin the gold of fresh honey. As calm as he might have seemed, he could see that beneath the surface a storm howled - his expression changing as the clouds were blown in the wind and lightning flashed like bolts of silver thread sewn onto the dark, roiling cloth of the night sky. He was a force of nature, no one could stop him. He glowed with an inner light, a white-hot soul, brighter than any sun.

Perseus Jackson, the greatest demi-god of his generation – his first hero, his first…

His train of thought ground to a halt, refusing to even think about it. That part of his mind was impenetrable, a tangle of his darkest secrets, a minefield of self-loathing and shame. So much was his distraction that he almost missed the son of Poseidon's next words.

'I…I know you.' Hope fluttered in his chest – a tiny bird slamming itself against the bars of its cage, sensing freedom, desperate to escape. But he quickly squashed it, refusing to let his heart get broken – again.

'Do you?' Nico put on his best innocent face. Well as innocent as a child of Hades dressed in ebony and chains could look. He glanced to his sister who stood beside the pair, looking worried. The younger girl just shrugged. Her eyes were electric as she looked up at him - like a cat's, they were a rare shade of hazel that sparked and glowed gold in the low light, luminous under the cinnamon fall of her hair.

'Percy's lost his memory.' The daughter of Pluto seemed decidedly uneasy. 'I thought maybe that you might have met other demi-gods like him…' She trailed off as he glared at her.

Of course he didn't know anyone else like Percy Jackson, be it mortal or immortal. The son of Poseidon one was of a kind. He decided to change the subject.

'This story about Gaia's army? You told Reyna?' Hazel looked insulted.

'Of course.' Then Percy cleared his throat, dragging Nico's attention back to him.

Damn, why the hell did it take so much _effort_ to pay attention when he was speaking?

A wave of self-hatred rose in his chest, burning his insides. He shouldn't be attracted to the other boy at all. It was _wrong, unnatural._

* * *

**_But behind his frozen veil,_**

**_Lies a heart of fire,_**

**_And although he doesn't show it,_**

**_He burns with desire._**

* * *

'Who is Gaia anyway?' Hazel let out a small whimper at the mere mention of the Earth goddess's name, but he didn't glance at her. She would not thank him for giving away her secret, the reason that she wasn't in the Fields of Asphodel at that very moment.

'She's she earth goddess.' He explained. 'The oldest goddess of all. She's in a deep sleep most of the time but she hates the gods and their children.'

'Mother earth is…evil?' Percy cocked his head to one side, a gesture that Nico found endearing and agonizingly frustrating at once.

'Very.' Nico closed his eyes for a moment. Blocking his sight from the sensory overload. For months he had lain awake at night, his mind filled with nightmares as to what had happened to the son of Poseidon. A thousand possible fates – each more gruesome than the last.

Then there were the other nights, when a very different kind of dream kept him awake. And in some ways, those felt more wrong than the nightmares. At least the possibility that Percy was dead was more realistic than the fantasies that his mind could create.

In the beginning he had thought that he was ill – fever dreams presenting themselves as sick, sick fantasies. Then they followed him into the waking world as well - until he could no longer look at the older boy without imagining the ivory curve of his back, the way that the water clung to his body as he stepped out of the surf. Until even the sound of his voice was enough the send shivers up his spine, the flash of his smile enough to set his mind spinning.

It was _wrong._

* * *

**_Stitch by stitch, he mends his heart,_**

**_From where it's been broken, ripped and torn apart._**

* * *

Opening his eyes, he continued. 'She had been trying to make a comeback since the Second Titan war during the summer.' He glanced quickly at Hazel and he saw guilt flash in her eyes.

_She still blames herself._

'She took a new husband, Tartarus, and gave birth to a new race of giants. I've heard reports of them being reborn. Last summer, the legion stormed Mount Orthrys in San Francisco. They toppled the titan's seat of power and I can only assume that Kronos…Uh, Saturn returned to the Abyss.' Damn, it was hard to keep the Greek and Roman terms straight in his head. The people of Camp Jupiter couldn't know about the battle of New York, about the Greeks. 'Um, anyway – Gaia is trying to rise again, but that's not the biggest problem.'

'Nico and I believe that Gaia's minions have captured Death and have taken control of the Doors of Death. Soon, no monster will be able to die _at all.' _

'Death?' Percy shook his head as though trying to dislodge water from his ears. 'I though Hades-' Luckily, Nico was spared from answering by the arrival of Frank Zhang.

'Hey!' The Chinese boy grinned as he spotted Hazel. His sister scowled in return.

'Did you go see Octavian?'

'Yeah.' Percy answered. Ruffling the back of his hair in a gesture that was almost lazy. The green-eyed boy stepped forward to greet Frank, moving with a catlike grace that was too fluid, too certain to belong to a mere mortal. And yet he was - a living legend, the most powerful half-blood he knew, but still entirely mortal. A surge of jealously washed over him. Even with no memory, no recollection of who he was – Percy Jackson was still so entirely _sure _of himself, so sure in every movement. He would give anything to not doubt himself in everything he did. To be accepted, to be normal.

By the time he had pulled himself from his thoughts, Percy and Frank where two retreating figures on the hill. Hazel was staring at him curiously, like a puzzle she couldn't figure out.

'Are you okay?' She couldn't know. She would reject him, shun him. And Nico knew that he couldn't bear to lose the only person who still cared about him.

'I'm fine.' He gave her a dry smile.

'Who is Percy Jackson, really?'

'A very powerful demi-god.' Was all he could say without breaking down. As it was, images of the older bot whirled though his mind, taunting him.

'Is he dangerous?'

'Very, to his enemies.' The dark banks of the Styx, a dark-haired boy slashing through a legion of the dead – lead by Hades himself. No one could touch him, nothing could hurt him. He was invincible. 'But he's on our side. You can trust him.'

* * *

**_So where you might see a scared little boy,_**

**_I see a fighter who takes on the world._**

* * *

But could he trust himself? Not even Hazel knew that he was planning a suicide mission. The darkest days were yet to come. The son of Hades dropped his chin to his chest, twisting the silver skull ring on his finger. The bones of the roof of Hades' temple shifted restlessly.

Pain stabbed at his heart as he gazed out onto the horizon – he could still see Percy Jackson talking animatedly with Frank. It wouldn't matter anyway, he didn't even remember him and if he did, Annabeth was the one he cared about. Annabeth was the one he was in love with.

Nico Di Angelo was just a child of Hades.

_Bad luck. _

* * *

**_Please don't be in love with someone else,_**

**_Please don't have somebody waiting on you._**

**_Please don't be in love with someone else,_**

**_Please don't have somebody waiting on you. _**


	5. Last Hope

First I would like to say - yes, this chapter does contain an OC but no, she is not a 'Mary Sue' and just a filler character. As I know the general population of the internet's views of OCs.

Second, this is just a bit of a filler chapter with not too many feels.

Anyway, enjoy!

* * *

**_And you can see my heart, beating._**

**_You can see it through my chest._**

**_That I'm terrified, but I'm not leaving._**

**_I know that I must pass this test._**

* * *

Nico allowed himself a moment to grieve before he banished the memory from his mind. For the last eight months he had attemped to keep it at the back of his mind.

With the issue of the Doors of Death being opened, he had thought – selfishly – that he could bring Bianca back undetected, take her soul from the Underworld without Hades knowing.

_If only it were that simple._

His sister had chosen to be reborn. She had left him – the very thing she had vowed never to do.

Nico grit his teeth as he pushed himself back up from the rough bark of the tree – a wood nymph was giving him a dirty look from the braches above his head for gouging at the wood.

At least he had gotten something from his trip to the Underworld, another child of Hades, well, Pluto if you were being technical about it. She would be safe at Camp Jupiter, maybe not loved, but she would be safe. Gods knew she deserved a second chance at life. Hopefully she would learn to fit in better than he had. She was cursed, he knew, and her role in the coming war would be an important one.

* * *

**_Love is cruel,_**

**_Love is not kind._**

**_He will rip your soul,_**

**_Shatter your mind._**

* * *

Taking a deep breath, Nico Di Angelo pushed his dark thoughts to the back of his mind and brushed off his jeans. The grass in the Fields of Asphodel produced a strange sort of pollen that clung to anything and was a nightmare to get rid of.

He was at Camp to do a job, nothing else. He owed it to Percy to help him, to find the Doors, and with Thanatos incapacitated, there was only one person who could possibly help him.

Glancing through the trees, he spotted her now, striding quickly across the central green towards Cabin Twenty One. Her ever-present black rucksack bounced against her back as she walked.

Even as the Ghost King and a son of Hades, the idea of talking to _that_ girl gave him the jitters. Except he had to – if he wanted to find a way to close the Doors. He had to do something to keep his mind off the missing son of Poseidon, because down that way lay madness.

His stinging eyes reminded him that he hadn't slept in a while. How long had it been? Two days? Three? He couldn't remember. Maybe he would take a nap in Cabin Thirteen afterwards.

Shaking his head to try and clear some of the fuzziness, Nico strode across the lush grass of Camp Half-Blood, out of the cool shade of the forest and into the bright winter sunlight.

* * *

**_He will break your heart_**

**_And laugh at your pain – _**

**_The broken lovers,_**

**_A madman's game._**

* * *

Mercy Morana only looked up at he stepped into her line of sight, a few feet from the steps of Cabin Twenty One. Eyes like blue fire blazed from under raised eyebrows, calculating and cold.

'Di Angelo.' Her voice was slow and rich, like maple syrup, and it set his teeth on edge. Even at sixteen, Mercy had only been at camp since October. The girl radiated an aura of darkness that chilled him to the bone.

'I need to talk to you.' Mercy nodded as if she had expected this and without another word, turned towards her cabin.

Across the other side of the lawn, a group of Aphrodite kids snickered as they saw the two teenagers together.

'Hey! It's the camp creepers! You two make the perfect couple.' A snarl curled the corner of his lips and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword. Nico hated the children of Aphrodite. They were silly, shallow and cruel – with the exception of Piper, of course – and one too many times they had come dangerously close to discovering his secret. In general, he avoided them as much as possible.

Mercy simply glanced at them with distaste.

'Love's children.' She muttered before climbing the steps that led up to her cabin. The large building was elegant, built of soft grey stone. The Greek letter Theta hung above the entrance – polished black metal with an iridescent sheen to it.

Once inside, the older girl picked up a slim black book from a low table and flipped through it.

The cabin was sparsely furnished; a single bed with a black metal frame stood at the far end of the room, a dark, lacquered trunk at its foot. The Gothic, iron grey wallpaper matched the almost silvery wood that floored the room. Against the right wall, a bookshelf filled with all manner of journals and leather bound volumes stood next to a mounted cabinet. Behind the glass, various bottles gleamed, jewel toned – reminding him of what the children of Thanatos were. _Assassins. _

Within this cabin were more than a hundred ways that he could die. Nico knew that she kept poisons and weapons stored here, from garrottes to stilettos, crossbows to swords. There were endless ways to deliver death.

And now, with her father imprisoned, Mercy Morana was the only person who could help him in his mission.

* * *

**_Love deals in whispered secrets,_**

**_And revels in chances lost._**

**_But loving someone so far out of reach,_**

**_That is what Love savours the most._**

* * *

He tried to swallow around the hard knot of worry and fear that had lodged itself in his chest – growing with every passing day that the son of Poseidon stayed missing. The nightmares had gotten worse too. Once Bianca had chosen to be reborn, her spirit had stopped visiting him at night. The monsters closed in again – tormenting his mind and stealing his sanity, bit by bit.

Fear held him in place; the daughter of Thanatos always made him nervous and while he didn't fear Death – he would embrace it, to be honest – the mortals had far too many sayings linking the spirit of Death to that of Love. And Love was the one god he feared the most, out of all the Olympians, the only one with the power to bring him to his knees.

As she strode over to her bookshelf, the rucksack she wore shimmered in and out of focus until it was no longer a bag, but a pair of ebony wings identical to her father's. The downy feathers gleamed in the low light, a hundred colours swirling and disappearing like the surface of an oil slick.

'Not many know of this particular…aspect of myself.' Mercy spoke without looking up from her book. 'But then again,' she closed the journal with a sharp crack. 'You seem like you know all about secrets.'

Nico shifted uncomfortably. This was not the way he wanted the conversation to go.

'You know why I'm here.' His throat was as dry as the Sahara, every word raw and painful.

Mercy's head whipped around and he could feel the full weight of her gaze as it burned through him. Anger blazed in her eyes, turning their colour from sapphire blue to liquid gold. Alabaster skin – so different from her father's – was stark contrast to her obsidian hair, which rippled down her back until he couldn't tell where tresses stopped and feathers began. A heavy fringe almost obscured her eyes. She was tall, towering over Nico as she shifted to face him. A silk shirt was draped around her slender frame – molten copper poured over lean muscle.

'My answer is no, son of Hades.' And her voice was deadly calm in her fury, the sound of life and death itself; sand slipping through fingers, the tick of an old brass pocket-watch, the sound of a life slowly drifting away. 'To do so would be a death sentence, one from which even my father's imprisonment could not save you.'

Desperation whispered in his ear, a wailing, agonizing cry of loss and pain. His heart was racing hell for leather, slamming against his ribcage as he processed Mercy's words.

No help. He had no other choice. He had to find the Doors of Death. Lives would depend on it – _Percy's_ life might depend on it.

* * *

**_Love is cruel,_**

**_He is not kind,_**

**_Love is a monster – _**

**_But certainly not blind._**

* * *

'_You don't understand_!' A wave of freezing cold radiated out from his spare frame and for the first time in two years, Nico felt the full force of his temper – crushing and utterly devastating - telling him to fight, to eliminate everything and anything that tried to stop him. 'You don't understand.'

The daughter of Thanatos' gaze softened a little as she regarded the broken boy before her, head bowed with the weight of silence, a lifetime's worth of secrets and shame. But it was not her place to judge him, Death was unbiased, impartial. Nico Di Angelo was far too young to have a soul so old.

Alas, there was nothing she could give him to ease the pain, and she didn't think it would go down too well with her father's boss if she gave his son Tranquilla Morte.

'The Doors of Death lie at the very heart of Tartarus. It would be suicide to try to reach them. Gaia's forces guard the Doors – Titans, drakons, giants – the very worst of her brood.'

'I have nothing to lose.' It was if every word was a scar re-opened. There are no worse wounds than soul wounds, for they last a lifetime and the ghosts of pain can bring even the strongest of heroes to their knees.

'Then I wish you luck, Nico Di Angelo.' Mercy's voice was sorrowful, filled with regret.

As he prepared to step back into the shadows, her parting words were salt rubbed into a wound.

'Even though I am the daughter of Death, it is Love who is often the cruellest.'

Panic choked him as he realised that Mercy Morana knew his secret but reason whispered that she would take it to the grave.

* * *

**_Loving him is like trying to change your mind_**

**_Once you're already flying through the freefall._**

**_It's like the colours in autumn, so bright,_**

**_Just before they lose it all. _**


	6. Author's Note

I'm sorry I haven't been able to update much recently - life just keeps getting in the way - but I am trying to start another chapter. Possibly Nico's POV during the scene by the River Styx. What do you guys think? Your thoughts are greatly appreciated.

Keep reading and writing, Shadowheart28


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